


Something about Love

by frubeto



Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Fix-It of Sorts, M/M, Relationship Advice, tilly being tilly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-02
Updated: 2019-05-02
Packaged: 2020-02-16 02:33:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18682360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frubeto/pseuds/frubeto
Summary: Conversations that could and/or should have happened in season 2.aka things my brain spewed out in the middle of the night that actually kinda have a theme





	Something about Love

 

 

When Tilly walked into the mess hall for dinner, it looked just like always. No trace of the fight that had happened mere hours ago. It shouldn’t be a surprise, the bots had done their job, but something still felt off as she approached the replicators and ordered. It was late, maybe that was part of it. Stamets and her had been in engineering, trying to get the spore drive back online after its mysterious failure, making no progress at all. He was still down there, trying his luck, but the loud growling of her stomach had eventually made him send her away.

She grabbed her meal and scanned the room for friendly faces. At this time of day, the mess hall was always almost empty, and while she did not like to eat alone, everyone else apparently did. The few tables that were occupied only hosted a single person, each as far away from everyone else as possible. She sighed. She knew none of them well enough to join them, so she was about to find her own lonely table when she spotted the head of Doctor Culber behind another and made a decision.

 

“Hi.”

 

He looked up.

 

“Do you mind if I sit here?”

 

The lack of immediate reaction was already making her question her choice, but by the time he shook his head, attention turning straight back to the broccoli he was pushing around on his plate, she kind of had to commit. So she set her tray down and took the chair opposite him, finally getting to satisfy the churning in her stomach.

 

Her bowl was half empty when the silence between them grew uncomfortable again. Scanning Culber’s face, she searched for something to say.

 

“It’s erm. Good to have you back.”

 

Definitely the wrong thing to say, if the way he stilled and closed his eyes was anything to go by. She didn’t need the forced smile that followed. The cue was obvious. Back to eating it was.

 

But the sight of Stamets wouldn’t leave her mind. The way he had arrived in engineering, even smaller and snappier than in the months prior. He hadn’t said much, but she had a vague idea of what had happened. And she wanted to help. She needed to do something. Sitting idly by and watching drama unfold and hearts break was just not her  _style._

Unfortunately for her though, the way she understood the situation, it would take mostly time to resolve. Still. Maybe there was a way to shorten it somehow. Sitting up straight and clearing her throat, she was ready to speak her mind, when Culber interrupted her without even looking up.

 

“Don’t.”

 

How did he do that?

  
“You don’t even know what I was gonna say… ?”

 

“This is going to be about Paul.”

 

Maybe he did.

 

“Okay, I know I’ve kind of sided with Commander Stamets in the past, because, well, he’s my boss and I’m, ah, I might be idolizing him a little-”

 

She gave a quick nervous laugh, still trying to get any reaction at all, because if there was one thing that was unsettling, it was people whose face she couldn’t read.

 

“And I’ve seen him… struggle… without you… ”

 

That finally made Culber raise his head, look her dead in the eyes.

 

“I don’t need to hear any more about how much I’ve hurt him.”

 

“No!”

 

She almost threw her hands up in defense.

 

“No. That’s not what I was-”

 

_Deep breath, Tilly. Take this from the start._

 

“You were dead.” 

 

_There we go._

 

“And now you’re not. And that’s _so weird._ Like, we’re all still trying to wrap our heads around that. And I’m one of the few who understand the science behind it, but it’s- I mean, there was a ceremony and everything, your body is somewhere-”

 

Culber looked about ready to get up and leave now, so she stopped herself again.

 

“No, listen. What I’m trying to say is: This is a fucked up situation.”

 

_Sorry, Saru. But someone had to say it._

 

“And you have every right to be the most affected by it.”

 

Part of Culber seemed to relax back into his chair, and she could only hope it was because her argument was finally making sense, and not because he had nowhere else to go.

 

“Don’t be too hard on yourself for not fitting back into-” she made a vague handgesture, “-this right away. You don’t have to have yourself back together until the last one of us stops… _gawking_ at you in the corridors.”

 

Her apologetic tone worked to bring at least a tiny, but genuine, smile to his face.

 

“Thank you, Tilly.”

 

 

*

 

 

Paul was sitting on the couch, trying to get some work done, when the door chimed. He sighed, but, with no idea who would be visiting him at this hour, he got up to open, and found himself face to face with the man he was sure he wanted to see least right now.

 

“Hugh’s not here if you’re looking for a rematch.”

 

_Hasn’t been in a while. Probably never will be again._

 

“I’m not. I actually wanted to talk to you.”

 

“Why.”

 

Tyler shifted his weight from left to right foot and looked around, clearly wishing he’d be invited in.

 

“I’m trying to be useful. I know that no-”

 

“How are you going to be of any use in this situation,” Paul snapped, ready to close the door in his face, but Tyler was unimpressed.

 

“I’m struggling with memories of a past life I can’t reconcile with who I am now. That sound familiar?”

 

Paul glared at him. Letting a deliberately uncomfortable amount of time pass before he wordlessly stepped aside to let him in. Tyler entered, a relieved ‘thank you’ on his lips, and once again Paul was reminded of how tall the man was. He still couldn’t believe Hugh picked a fight with him. Especially thinking that there was a Klingon inside. Paul leaned against the dresser, watching Tyler like a hawk, and waved at him to say whatever he came here to say. 

 

Tyler fidgeted.

 

“Voq… loved L’Rell,” he finally started, and Paul did not care to imagine that. “I have all those memories. And I do feel a bond with her. But it’s not the same. It’s far from it. It’s not what she expected from me. And it could never be.”

  
“You can’t seriously compare that. You’re not Voq. You were a completely different person. Hugh is-”

 

“Hugh Culber is dead.”

 

Paul flinched.

 

“He died. And now his memories and personality live on in a different body. Isn’t that what you say scientifically happened?”

 

Grimacing, he pushed off the dresser to move around. It was a harsh oversimplification, but not inaccurate. And however much he didn’t want to see the parallel, he was starting to get desperate. Hugh wanted to focus on the future, and Paul could do that, he had to, but at the very least, he wanted to understand. So that, if the day came that Hugh decided there was room for Paul in that future, he wouldn’t screw it up.

 

“So what’s your advice.”

 

Tyler sighed.

 

“You assume that this new person will feel the same way about you as the one you lost months ago. Just because they share the same memories. Respect that your relationship ended. Not by any of your choice, but it did. Treat it like what it was: a breakup.”

 

“Okay, ignoring for a minute that you’re talking about this as if you didn’t have anything to do with it,” Paul said, and he really was trying, “This isn’t just about me. He- in the network. What he went though is… unbelievable. I want to help him. I want to be there for him. I can’t leave him out there alone with that.”

 

“He said he needs time?” Tyler asked knowingly, and Paul grudgingly nodded.

 

“He needs to work through that,” Tyler explained, “with himself. That kind of work – reclaiming life – it’s… one of the hardest things to do. And, unfortunately for everyone involved, it’s solitary.”

 

“So what, you think I can let him go like that? After everything? Maybe you’re even more heartless than I thought.”

 

It was pure lashing out at this point, and Paul was well aware. But the man that killed his partner was in his quarters, giving reasonable relationship advice, because he wasn’t the man that killed his partner, and everything was becoming too much for him. He kept walking up and down to calm himself until he no longer felt like trying to physically throw Tyler out the door, and ended up sitting down  o n the couch, contemplating Hugh’s things across the room, before letting out a quiet apology. Tyler only nodded in acknowledgment.

 

“There is a Klingon saying,” he eventually offered, wisely giving a warning before slipping into the guttural language. _“‘qaS_ _taHvIS wa’ ram loSSaD Hugh SIjlaH qetbogh loD.’"_

 

Paul looked up, waiting for a translation.

 

“‘ _One man can cut 4000 throats in a single night, if he keeps running.’"_

 

Well, that explained nothing.

 

“Culber is strong,” Tyler continued when Paul’s face had apparently conveyed his confusion,

 

“Let him run.”

 

 

*

 

 

As soon as Stamets walked into the lab, Tilly jumped up.

 

“Oh. Commander?”

 

He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, but didn’t stop on his way to his console.

 

“Hm?”

 

“I wanted to er… ask your advice.”

 

“Mh-hm.”

 

“… of kind of a personal nature?”

 

“… _mh-hm_?”

 

He was starting to get annoyed, great. _Just go with it._

 

“Erm. How did you and Culber manage that relationship? While serving together, I mean? And you’ve been long distance before, right?”

 

She  saw him tense before she had even finished, so she dove right into the apology she had lined up.

 

“Sorry that’s – right now is probably not the time you’d wanna – I’m sorry.”

 

Backing away, she almost tripped on the stairs and decided to sit down on them while Stamets continued with whatever it was he had come down here to do.

 

“I just don’t know who else to ask?” she couldn’t stop herself from adding. “You two are the only real ‘Fleet couple I know. Or I could ask my mom, of course, but she is not the shining example of at-work-relationships, she’d probably say something like, ‘oh no, Sylvia, do not ever get entangled in something like that, it’s nothing but trouble. And you need to focus on the CTP, you don’t want to be distracted, do you? And are you even sure they like girls?’”

 

Her head fell into her hands almost on its own accord, a groan chasing away the echo of her bad imitation. She didn’t really want to face Stamets now, but after a minute of silence, he was suddenly right in front of her.

 

“There’s a million reasons not to start a relationship,” he said softly, making her raise her head again.

 

“And I’m sure you can come up with even more. Love is always a risk. If things don’t go to plan it can-”

 

He hesitated.

 

“-tear you to pieces.”

 

The tight smile and the hurt in his eyes almost brought tears to hers and she nodded, regretting ever bringing it up.

 

“But imagine they do,” Stamets continued. “Close your eyes and really imagine it.”

 

“O-kay?”

 

For a moment she wondered if he was serious, but then did as told. Imagined them becoming  _a thing,_ going on stupidly romantic dates, coming home to each other, making memories all around the universe, maybe visiting her home planet, holding hands, her breath on her skin, her hair in her face, talking about everything and nothing until deep into the night, her smile being the last thing she saw before falling asleep, and the first thing she saw in the morning. She imagined a future where they absolutely had it all.

Until Stamets interrupted her thoughts with a soft,

 

“Yeah.”

 

and her eyes flew open again. Only then she noticed the broad smile that had involuntarily spread across her face, and the mirroring smirk on Stamets’. Caught, she tried to reign in her features. This was  _not_ enough to convince her. The war had taught her how fast something could be gone.

 

“But then what if something happens?” she argued, getting up, “What if we get assigned to different ships? What if my mom is right and the CTP has me too busy to actually keep a relationship? What if it doesn’t work?”

 

He sighed.

 

“You _make_ it work, Tilly. It only takes two people who decide to make it work.”

 

A strange look passed over Stamets’ face, but before she could decipher it, his façade was back up. “Maybe four if they’re andorian.”

 

“What if they don’t see it that way?” _What if she doesn’t see the logic in that? What if she’s rather not take that risk? What if she doesn’t want to fight for it?_

 

Stamets shrugged.

 

“Well, unless it’s me, you’re welcome to come hide here and mope.”

 

She laughed, weirdly nasal with unshed tears, then shook her head.

 

“It’s not you.”

 

He smiled.

 

“Good.”

 

“...it’s Michael.”

 

 

*

 

 

Standing in front of Hugh’s quarters with a bouquet of plastic flowers in hand, Paul was suddenly very glad that Hugh had chosen a quieter deck and there were no passersby in sight. The rumor mill was doing fine on its own, no need to feed into it.

He rang, and it only took a few seconds before the door opened, revealing Hugh, still in uniform, with a polite smile on his face, that turned uncertain when he saw Paul, and then closed-off when he saw the flowers.

 

“Tilly just asked me for dating advice,” Paul hurried to explain, trying to jog Hugh’s memory while also keeping a grumpy attitude. 

 

“ _Gay_ dating advice.”

 

After Nurse Johnson’s dramatic turning down of Sheng’s advances a while back, then the addition of Reno, and now Tilly, engineering was officially taking the rainbow cake, causing Paul to lose a 5 year bet.

 

Hugh laughed as he remembered, and waved him in.

 

“Well, in that case… I did tell you so.”

 

Paul nodded, awkwardly shuffling past him and placing the vase on the small table.

 

“She wanted to know how we did it. Why it worked, despite… everything.”

 

“What did you say?” Hugh asked, wary of where this conversation was going.

 

“I gave her the ‘love is a choice’ speech.”

 

A huff.

 

“Yeah, I’ve heard that one recently,” Hugh mumbled, and Paul looked up, curious, but that had to wait. He came here because he had something to say. 

 

“Unfortunately though, the reverse is not true. It would be so much easier now if I could-”

 

“Paul...” Hugh cut him off, but he shook his head.

 

“No. Sorry. I’m not trying to guilt-trip you. I know it can’t be what you want, having me run after you like a lost kitty. I’m trying to apologize.”

 

He sighed. Collected his strength before fully facing Hugh.

  
“You… you made that choice more often than me.”

 

For a moment, it looked like Hugh would argue, then he must have thought better of it.

 

“I took you for granted, and I-… I know you said I showed you? How much I loved you? But that’s not true, is it. And I thought I realized that when- when I lost you. But I still am. Taking you for granted. Thinking we could just. Bounce back to the way things were before.”

 

He let go of the excess air in his lungs and made a careful step towards Hugh.

 

“I’m sorry. I love you. And I probably won’t be able to give up hope so soon, but… I’ll respect whatever decisions you make. A-and don’t make them for me. Make them for you.”

 

He gave a sad smile, and he was glad to be familiar enough with Hugh’s face to know he was processing, and not staring him down, or he would be as nervous a mess as Tilly when he’d do the same to her. Still, no need to overstay his welcome.

 

“That’s just. What I wanted you to know. I’ll-” he pointed to the door and turned to go. “-be on my way again.”

 

“Paul.” 

 

He stopped and turned his head.

 

“Thank you.”

 

 


End file.
